


Isolation

by Hakuryen



Series: Road to Hell [3]
Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao, Supernatural
Genre: (it's a SPN AU what did you expect), Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Can be read without knowing much about Supernatural, Case Fic, Crossroad Demon Mozart, Hunter Salieri, M/M, Mature Tag for spn-typical violence, Mentions of alcoholism, Salieri isn't just a Useless Gay™ anymore, brief mentions of violence, he has now evolved into a Gay Mess™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hakuryen/pseuds/Hakuryen
Summary: Nightmares haunted him. Pretty eyes framed by gold and mirth, snow melting red, a winter’s night’s cold seeping into his bones, turning him into a statue, unable to do anything while the glass-framed museum that is his life collapsed around him.In the wake of the unfortunate second meeting with the demon, Salieri has fallen into old, bad habits.





	Isolation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to explain everything that you might need to know about SPN (if you haven't watched it) in the oneshots, but should something not be made clear there, I'll try to put that info into the end-notes.  
> I think I've mentioned anything important this time, but if there are any questions left, feel free to ask!
> 
> ~still unbeta'ed

The world around him slowly fuzzed back into focus as he managed to open his eyes, despite the feeling of the world falling in on his head so strongly that the pressure on his eyes seemed impossible. Mouldy reeking air filled his lungs as he inhaled heavily and led his hands to his head in an attempt to substitute the oppressive feeling by a real, physical force.

The sky beyond his window was still dipped in flat colours as the sun was only just attempting to approach the horizon to throw some light on the small Italian town he was in. While the days were growing steadily longer, Salieri still found that his body sought out night time more. No matter how hard he worked at day, he just couldn't fall asleep at night. Only his assortment of cheap liquor and drug store sleeping pills were helping somewhat, yet the rest he got was only short and fitful.

And when he slept, nightmares haunted him. Pretty eyes framed by gold and mirth, snow melting red, a winter’s night’s cold seeping into his bones, turning him into a statue, unable to do anything while the glass-framed museum that is his life collapsed around him.

He nearly toppled over the assortment of bottles beside his bed as he heaved himself up from where he lay and made his way into the motel's bathroom to take a short shower and prepare himself for the day. When he looked into the mirror right after, the sight that greeted him was the same as for the last few weeks. Salieri knew that he'd probably look shaggy if it wasn't for his insistence to keep up a meticulous appearance. Still, he couldn't do much against the deep bags under his dull eyes, or the defeated slump in his shoulders. Thankfully, most people he talked to nowadays just mistook him for a dedicated and overworked officer, solving yet another case of people having gone missing or found dead. They weren't exactly wrong, except for thinking that he was chasing after criminals. Well, in all his years as a professional hunter he had come across some sick fucks murdering other humans when he had thought a monster might be the culprit of a case. They turned out to be monsters, but not the same ones he was after.

Brisk wind came through the window that he had opened to let in some fresh air and to wake him up a little. It carried the unmistakable smell of the sea with it. The town he was in wasn't located directly at, but rather a few miles away from it. Yet the last remnants of winter were drawing on the land and deriving nature of any smells that could drown out that of the sea.

The temperatures were rising, though, and with the improving weather came the tourists that visited the town in its hiking-seasons to take a stroll through the trails of the close pine forests to reach the coast. And with these first tourists of the year came the first unnatural deaths that the town had seen in over two decades. Sudden deaths that weren't caused by age or illness weren't attention-grabbing per se, but if the bodies were found blood-drained on some remote hiking trail after the people were missing for a few days, a hunter might just pack his bags and go take a closer look at it.

Seeing as these incidents were the first thing really interesting in this area in a while and therefore made quite the headlines, Salieri was quite surprised that no other Italian hunters had taken notice of it. However, he wasn't complaining – after all the stress and despair he had gone through after that night in the cabin, he wasn't much in the mood for working with somebody else.

He had already been in this town for a few days, doing as much research and questioning as he could. It was a pity that the town's authorities had written the deaths off as animal attacks, which meant the bodies quickly got either incinerated or shipped off to their home countries. Not being able to see them was a huge disadvantage – autopsy reports were seldom detailed enough for hunters and while it was a huge tell that the bodies were drained of blood for it being vampires, Salieri couldn't be sure until he saw the bite wound. It bothered him immensely, but … he'd just have to wait for another body to turn up.

Sighing, Salieri bound his hair together in his usual low ponytail, put on his jacket and boots and opened his door to the outside world. Before he closed it behind him, he took one last glance at his room, deciding that he'd need to buy new beverages and tidy up sometime, checked if his gun was on him and then he was off.

 

~~~~

* * *

 

 

The town itself was mostly still asleep. Besides some shop owners and a few early birds, Salieri met no one, and even those who were awake didn't pay him much mind.  
He lucked out on this case: the news that an investigator of any kind was in town usually spread like wildfire through the grapevines in smaller communities like this one, but since it was actually a tourist attraction and since the hiking-season had just begun, his sudden appearance didn't alert anybody. And although he did speak Italian because of his heritage, it was pretty rusty and by now felt just as alienated on his tongue as English and German did. So the normal town's people didn't think of it as strange that a 'tourist' didn't speak perfect Italian, but the people he actually worked with and whom he had to introduce himself as an investigator to were sceptic.

That was usually the point when it came in handy that he wasn't perfect at any of the three languages he spoke with differing fluencies: he by now had a lot of practice explaining himself so that people got off his back. Usually, it came down to 'As long as I can understand you just fine and solve the case in the end, it shouldn't matter.'

He knew that that made him seem only more standoffish, but he was there to save those people's lives, not to befriend and cuddle them, and being seen as incompetent just because of his language skills was something he could not have.  
His line of thought must have drawn a scowl on his face, as the next elderly woman he came upon looked at him miffedly before going into the bakery she was just about to enter. For a short moment, Salieri considered buying something for breakfast too, but he discarded that option and instead proceeded in going towards his destination of the supermarket he had been patronizing for the duration of his short stay here. When he finally reached the small local store, the clerk that had worked the morning shift the last few times he had been there seemed to recognize him and thus gave him a short nod.

Other than the both of them, no one else was in the shop.

Salieri hadn't been in town for long, but he had shopped in this particular store often enough to already know his way around, so it didn't take him long to pick up the alcohol he longed for and some food he knew he might be able to stomach. The cashier gave him a both accusatory and concerned look for buying liquor for the sixth day in a row when he placed the items on the counter.

Thankfully, Salieri was saved from awkwardly conversing with a stranger by one of his burner phones that he used for hunting ringing. It was the pathologist of the town, who he had gotten in contact with after arriving, and whom he had told to call him should another body or any new evidence appear. It seemed like exactly that was the case. Salieri wasn't happy about the fact that another person had died, but he was glad that new evidence had come up that he could look at first-hand so that he could actually start getting somewhere with his research and prevent more deaths.

His purchases were paid quickly and he hurried to get to his car.

 

* * *

 

 

Salieri liked cleanliness, but he'd never get used to the sterile look and smell of morgues, no matter that he has already been a hunter for the better half of his life. The morgue itself was pretty small, nothing in comparison to those of big cities. There were nine cabinets for holding bodies on one wall, while the others were lined with shelves full of other necessary supplies, and in the middle of the room stood the big autopsy table on which the local pathologist had already laid the body of the newest victim.

It was a young woman of about twenty years, with dark hair and hiking clothes, whose skin was as white as snow and just as brittle, seeing as she seemed to have been deprived of every last drop of blood.

"She just came in. I didn't have a look at her yet since I wanted to wait for you", the pathologist told him. They had already met once, when Salieri began working on the case and approached the other man for info on the found bodies, so the pathologist already knew that Salieri was pretty taciturn and immediately launched into his work without waiting for a reply.

"We already sent out a general description into the town, so we'll hopefully soon know whether she's a local or a tourist. Her body was found about one kilometer into the woods, on a trail that wasn't far off from the ones the other bodies were found on." While he talked, he began checking her neck and shoulders for the bite mark they were sure to find, as was the case with the other victims.

"I'll do a full examination later and call you should I find anything el- wait. That's strange."

Until that point, Salieri had just silently stood beside him and listened to his words while watching him work, but at that exclamation, he leaned forward in full attention and stared intently at the place the pathologist was looking at. There he saw a bite mark not unlike those of vampires, but much bigger and messier than usual. It wasn't the wound itself they were staring at, though. Much rather, they looked at the tiny tooth that stuck out of it above her collarbone in astonishment. It wasn't an animal tooth or the longish one of a vampire – instead, the form was that of a shark's tooth and it was made entirely from silver.

Speechless, the pathologist pulled out the tooth with a pair of tweezers, rinsed it off in the sink next to the table, and let it drop into a little plastic bag used for evidence. Then he gave it to Salieri before pulling his gloves off and taking a shaky sip of the tea that stood on his work desk.

"You're the expert. What animal has such teeth?" He then asked with an unsure and tired voice.  
Salieri took his time answering, staring intently at the tooth that was barely glinting in his hands while trying to think about whether he had ever heard of a monster with such teeth.

"I have no clue," he answered finally, "but I'll find out."

The pathologist just nodded gravely, put on new gloves and moved back to the table where Salieri still stood.

"I'll begin the examination now. You can stay if you want, although I doubt that I'll find anything else that differs from the bodies before. But I can call you should that be the case anyway." The older man gave him a small smile before he began undressing the woman, which was the point at which Salieri quickly thanked him and left the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Research had never been Salieri's strong suit, the line between fact and fiction was just too thin for him to tread on. In the past, he could just rely on his knowledge since it was always the same monsters that turned up in Europe. America had it much worse, as the immigrants brought their native monsters with them so that the country wasn't just a melting pot of cultures, but too of creatures.

And in the odd case that he came upon a monster that he didn't yet know, Gluck usually did the research for him or asked around his wide net of hunting friends to see if any of them had a clue what he was dealing with. Gluck wasn't an option right now, though.

So Salieri made use of his ancient laptop and the slow motel-WiFi, all while sustaining himself with cheap beer and even cheaper coffee.

It was only in the early morning hours – he had been awake for a whole day – when he gave up on trying to find out any more. Somewhere along the line, he had happened upon the lead of there being an African type of vampire with silver teeth called 'Asanbosam'. They lived in trees and dropped down on the people who trespassed their territory. However, all of that sounded like it was more folklore than truth, and even if it was indeed this certain type of vampire, the lead turned out to be a dead end. No matter how deep he looked, in how many languages he searched for answers with the help of online translators, he just couldn't find a way to kill them.

He was at his wit's end. There was no one he could ask, his hunting acquaintances were few and far in between, being not much wiser than he was, and Gluck was out of question.

However … it was more fitting to say that there was no one he _wanted_ to ask. The possibility of just using the number Mozart gave him and asking for help bounced around the back of his head like the most annoying sparkling bouncy ball in history. He had already told himself that asking a demon – the one who held your soul no less – for a favour was unacceptable a thousand times that night.

But he was desperate. And for the first time that day, he gave in.

The card was still where he had left it in his glove department, crammed to the back of it behind all of the false ID cards, badges, and documents he kept there. When he got it out, one of the corners had a little furrow which mirrored itself between Salieri's eyebrows as he tried to straighten it out. Between his pale fingers and the white shine of the card, the black numbers stood out starkly and imposingly, even though the card had seemed like the most inconspicuous thing before.

Actually typing them into his phone turned out to be a more difficult feat than usual. For the first time in nearly a month, he turned on the phone he used for private affairs and that looked much more used than the few he used for hunting purposes. Salieri deliberately ignored the dozens of missed calls by Gluck and the few he had received by Gluck's wife Maria and Gassmann that were displayed on his screen, instead going directly to where he could enter the number to call.

He figured that he didn't have to save Mozart's number in his contact list. After all, this was a one time occasion. The shaking of his fingers while he typed in the numbers probably was due to the cold, too, since he didn't put on a jacket to go outside. Turning the heating on seemed too excessive for the short call, and the exterior of the jeep at least shielded him from the fresh morning wind.

Actually pressing the call button turned out to be much bigger of a problem than he had anticipated, too. In the end, it was only due to a small tremor in the finger which lingered above the button that made him actually press it.

"Hello?" the demon's voice caressed his ear only a few seconds later.

"Mozart," Salieri simply greeted him and then proceeded in awkwardly not saying anything else.

After a moment or two, the demon thankfully recognized his voice and kept leading the conversation.

"Antonio! You called! Did you only want to talk or is there something you need?" Mozart continued and Salieri could hear his smile through his voice.

"Your help."

"Hm?"

"I want – I need your help," the hunter clarified and cleared his throat in annoyance at himself.

Then he waited for that voice to answer him, but it was for naught as just a second later, the demon had teleported directly into his passenger seat. Salieri had been staring out of his window so intently that he wouldn't have even noticed him suddenly being there, had it not been for the loud tingle of the hanging ear jewelry Mozart had put on this morning. It was understandable then that Salieri jumped a little in his seat before looking at the man beside him with eyes wide open in surprise.

Mozart himself had already laid his eyes on Salieri's form, but after the hunter had turned around to him, his jovial expression turned blank except for the little furrow that emerged between his eyebrows.

"Antonio?" he asked in a tone that wasn't as boisterous as usual. "What's wrong?"

The demon wasn't only just looking for an answer in Salieri's reply, but also in his face, as Mozart's eyes jumped around it rapidly. Then again, Salieri was surely just imagining that.

"I suspect that some kind of African vampire hides in the woods and I could need your help with killing it." Salieri was glad that he for once managed to talk normally to the demon, without any outbursts or stuttering. His exhaustion was probably at the root of that, but he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Next time he blinked, Mozart had laid his hand on his shoulder and suddenly he wasn't in his car anymore but rather in the room he had rented for his stay. The room that he hadn't cleaned since his arrival. The room with dozens of beer bottles that were dimly illuminated by the morning light sifting through the window. His surprise of suddenly being teleported reflected itself in Mozart's face as he looked around the room, at said beer bottles, the messy bed and the workplace he used for his investigation.

Had he known that it wouldn't just be a short call, Salieri would have cleaned up in beforehand, maybe aired the room out a little. It was only then that he remembered that he still held the phone with the dead line to his ear, so he quickly stuffed it into his pocket in embarrassment.

Thankfully, Mozart didn't comment on the state of his room – even if he wanted to, if his slightly parted lips were any indication – and instead wandered to the desk on which Salieri had gathered all information he had. His laptop screen still showed articles on the Asanbosam.

When he decided to call the crossroad demon, Salieri had thought that it'd be a quick affair. Just a brief chat on how to kill the monster and then he'd be on his way to acquire the tools he needed for the kill. However, it didn't seem that way.

"Catch some sleep, Antonio," Mozart suddenly said to him, while still having his back turned on him and looking through his gathered evidence and information, "I'll figure out if it really is what you think it is and how to kill it."

"But-" Salieri wanted to protest, but he got interrupted by the sudden, yet gentle, pressure he felt on his chest; invisible hands carefully pushing him towards his bed. It was the first time that he felt Mozart's powers used on him, but it definitely wasn't the first time a demon in general had done it. And yet this moment stood in stark contrast to the malicious intent all other demons he had ever met showed other beings. The mere bafflement he felt in this moment was enough for him to not resist the push and do as he was told. Just sitting on the edge of the bed made him realise how tired he was, how much his eyes fought to stay open and how heavy consciousness weighed on his shoulders. He couldn't even bother to at least take off his jeans. Only his boots were quickly toed off before he crawled under the duvet, where he didn't immediately close his eyes.

"I'll be back and have everything ready when you wake up," Mozart reassured him after looking at him over his shoulder shortly. This was all it took to convince Salieri to sleep. If the demon wanted to kill him, he could've done so a million times over.

 

His sleep wasn't riddled with nightmares, with frigid limbs, jewelry painted red, bodies found dead. For once since that night in the cabin, Salieri found that he got full rest, that he managed to sleep without feeling worse after. Cosy afternoon sunlight warmed his leg where it stuck out under the duvet, the first birds that had come back for the approaching start of spring sang happily outside and the soft sounds of paper being thumbed through with care inside his room lay pleasantly in his ears.

It was the last fact that made him open one of his eyes in reluctance instead of basking in the moment a bit more. After blinking the sleep away a few times he first noticed that his room looked a bit tidier than when he last saw it, before his gaze landed on Mozart. The other man sat at the small wooden desk in the room, which also put him in the spotlight of the sun streaming in through the window. From where he lay, he could only see Mozart's back, although his silhouette was blurred from the sunlight falling on him and turning his hair to liquid gold instead of the shaggy bleach-job it usually was. He could only see Mozart's back, and yet he looked like an angel to him instead of the hellish being he was.

He must have made a sound, for Mozart turned around only a moment after, giving him an impish smile.

"Ah, you're awake. You've been asleep for nearly nine hours, I thought you'd gone for a whole coma."

The disappointment in himself for again thinking of Mozart in such ways and then having the demon greet him like this just made Salieri want to pull the covers back over his head and to be dead to the world for another few blissful hours. Only the memory of the promise that Mozart had made before he fell asleep kept him from acting on this childish desire. And a quick look at the table Mozart sat at showed him that that promise had indeed been kept. On it lay two machetes and a big jar.

As Salieri made to stand up, the demon's eyes followed his gaze and landed on the weapons themselves.  
"Oh, yea. You were right about it being an Asanbosam. They live around the African equator, mainly in Ghana. Usually, they hide in the treetops to drop down on unsuspecting victims to drain them of their blood, and if you want to kill them, you need to decapitate them just like other vampires, but it's got to be with a knife coated with this stuff." At this, Mozart held up the jar and now that it wasn't backlit so brightly, Salieri could see that it was filled with a bunch of old and weird looking blood, as if it had been mixed with another, thicker substance.

"Do I even want to know what's in there and how you got it?" Salieri asked him as he got out of bed with great reluctance and came to stand beside the demon.

"Nope", Mozart said with a grin and put the jar back on the table. Salieri merely sighed at this rubbed his face with his hands.

"Why is it even in Italy?" he then asked and began putting his shoes back on.

"Dunno. Globalisation, I guess? Monsters can migrate too" came Mozart's absentminded answer, and when Salieri looked back to him from his bowed over position, it seemed like the demon quickly averted his eyes from him.

Salieri didn't think much of it, so he ignored it as he approached the table after lacing up his shoes.

"Thank you. You can go now," he dismissed the demon while reaching for the jar and one of the machetes – why ever the demon had brought two.

"What are you talking about?" the demon asked and put his hands on Salieri's to stop him from taking the items, "I am coming with you!"  
"This won't be necessary. I prefer hunting alone." A blatant lie. He preferred hunting with Gluck and Gassmann guarding this back, but that stood out of question.

"Don't be dumb," Mozart snarled, "You'll be at a huge disadvantage, this thing lives in goddamn treetops. We don't even know if it's only one of them. Even experienced Ghanian hunters only hunt these things in groups. You'll die if you go alone!"

"What do you care if I die or not," Salieri snapped back and pulled out his hands from under Mozart's with force.

The demon's face immediately hardened and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then thought better. Instead, he just snappishly grabbed the machetes and the jar before walking to the door with heavy steps.

"I'm coming with, whether you want or not. I'll wait in your car." He slammed the door.

A deep and exhausted sigh escaped Salieri, as he suddenly stood alone in the abrupt silence of the room. He followed the demon only a few moments later, after he had pulled on a jacket and redone his low ponytail.

The drive to the entry of the forest was uncomfortable. They didn't talk any, but Salieri also didn't dare putting on the radio while Mozart brooded and coated the machetes with the strange mixture in harsh strokes of tissue-covered fingers. Salieri felt the odd urge to apologize to the demon.

He didn't want to – after all, it was the demon who held the contract over his soul. The mere fact that he was a demon was reason enough to stay away from him. And then there was Salieri's attraction to him. No, Salieri corrected himself, the attraction to his vessel. It was the body that drew the hunter in, not the damn demon.

But still. He should be thankful for the help he was getting. In the end, the demon was right in saying that this job was too big for him alone. That was something he'd never admit to the demon, though, and he'd take this conclusion into the grave with him.

It took them about half an hour until they reached the parking lot outside the hiking trail that would lead to the area all the victims had been found in. The car hadn't even come to a full stop before Mozart sprang out of it and slammed the door of the black jeep with force.

Salieri had to retain himself from making any comments as to not further irritate the demon, so he instead simply took the machete the blond was holding out for him and began following his quick steps.

 

* * *

 

 

They had been following the trail for over two hours. The third was steadily approaching and they had found no signs of any monsters being near. Both their eyes kept steadily shifting between the treetops and the ground, their machetes at the ready and their ears listening to any knacking sounds.

But no matter how much they concentrated on their surroundings, they couldn't anticipate the beast suddenly dropping down on Salieri from out of nowhere and knocking him to the ground.

At first, he couldn't see it – after all, his face was pressed into the hard dirt and he was busy coughing out the soil he had inhaled with his fall. Before he could even think of throwing the monster off, it had already bitten into his left biceps and he let out a pained scream in response. It was indeed good that he was there with Mozart. The demon quickly pushed the Asanbosam off the hunter before it could harm him any further and pressed it to a tree with his demonic powers. Now that the heavy weight was off his back and Salieri could get up on all fours to gasp in clean air, he looked at the monster.

It must've been barely as tall as Mozart, and its skin was completely hairless and dark, but with a greenish pallor. A tail which must be good for balancing in the trees reached down to the ground, where Salieri's eyes fell on the curved cloven hoofs that looked more like claws. The only thing that had any resemblance to normal vampires were the rows of pure-silver shark teeth that glinted in the light of the low sun.

Before Salieri could make any more observations, Mozart had already separated the Asanbosam's head from its body. With a pleased and smug expression, the demon turned around to him. His expression turned worried, however, when he saw the wound from which blood steadily oozed down his arm. Salieri would've held it with his other hand, but it still held the machete and he didn't want to let go of it until he knew they weren't in possible danger anymore. Which was good, since only a moment later, a second beast suddenly sprang down behind Mozart. Salieri acted on autopilot. He pushed the blond away with his hurt arm and quickly brought his machete down on the second Asanbosam's neck. But he was already exhausted from the sudden blood loss and his swing wasn't as strong as usual. So he had to hack a second, and a third, time to finally get the job done. The slow thud of the head hitting the ground mirrored his heavy breathing as he tried to get the oxygen his lungs so badly craved. He felt so tired that he just wanted to sink to the floor and sleep for two years, but he wouldn't let his body relax in fear of there being more of them.

Mozart must've felt the same, as neither of them talked or moved for a few minutes. When nothing else happened, it was like a spell had broken. They finally relaxed, looking at each other and then the two bodies lying on the floor, slowly colouring it red. It had been so anticlimactic, to have this all over so quickly after days of investigation and research, and hours spent on uneven forest ground. Salieri was just about to suggest that they should start either burying or burning them when Mozart surprised him by suddenly pulling his belt out of the belt loops of his skinny jeans.

He was just about to ask him what the heck he was doing when Mozart grabbed his injured arm and began binding the belt above the wound to constrict the blood flow. It for sure wasn't Salieri's first hunt, and he's had a lot of experiences with injuries, but at that moment, his head had been too empty to have even thought about treating the huge bite gash on his biceps.

"The-" Mozart interrupted himself to swallow heavily, "the stories about transforming into vampires after being bitten are fiction, right? I can't see your soul changing." With that, he put on another smile and looked up to Salieri from the slightly bowed over position he had adapted to have a look at the wound.

"No. You only turn when they somehow inject their blood into your body, for example by rubbing wounds against each other," the hunter reassured him. "But I thought you were knowledgeable about monsters?"

"I only know how to kill the most common kinds." With that, he stood up straight again and put his gaze back on the Asanbosams.

"You know, you could take their teeth and make silver bullets from them," Mozart said in a lively tone that sounded a little off before looking back at Salieri. In response to that, the darker haired man just scrunched up his nose and put on a frown.

"I'm not gonna pull the teeth out of dead monsters. We should just burn or bury them and go back."

The demon simply shrugged. "I'll take care of that", he then snapped his fingers and suddenly the bodies were gone. Salieri was just about to suggest to go back to the car when Mozart put his hand back on his shoulder and they all of a sudden stood next to the jeep.

This was probably for the best, since the sun already touched the horizon and Salieri felt way too tired for a couple hours trek through a forest, much less in the twilight or dark. A look into the wing mirror confirmed his suspicions. Between the dirt in his face and all over his clothes, the disarrayed state of his ponytail and his bloodied sleeve, he looked positively wild. In comparison, Mozart had barely broken a sweat, much less let his appearance get dishevelled.

Salieri knew that he'd likely scrub himself raw as soon as he got back to his room, but he couldn't help being filthy now so he just swallowed his displeasure down. He was just about to open the door to the driver's seat when Mozart lightly slapped his hand.

"Ah ah ah ah … I'll drive while you rest," he chided.

"Can you even drive?" Salieri's voice was filled with slight doubt.

"I've possessed a few people who could and learned through that. Don't worry," Mozart assured him. Salieri didn't know if this info actually put his mind to ease or made him even more unsure.

He was way too tired to protest or think more on it, though, so he just went to the passenger seat and let himself sink into the smooth leather. After, he must've fallen into a light sleep, as he couldn't remember anything from what happened between the forest edge and arriving in front of his motel, where he got woken by Mozart wanting to open Salieri's seatbelt. When he saw that Salieri was already conscious again, he stopped crowding him and let him get out of the car himself instead.

The way to his room felt like wakewalking, and he only just really came back to reality when the light snapped on in his room after he entered it. That was also the moment he realized that Mozart hadn't left yet.

"Why are you still here?" he asked with a following yawn, even if only a few hours had passed since his rest. Mozart gave him no verbal answer, he just pushed him to sit on the bed and walked into the small bathroom. Salieri could hear him rumbling around, probably looking for something, but he came back fruitlessly.

"Do you have a medical kit somewhere?" the demon then addressed him, "And take your shirt off."

Salieri did as he was told, too tired to complain. "In the duffel bag next to the table."

As he tried to remove his clothing without moving his left arm around too much, Mozart began digging through that bag and came up with the old kit Salieri regularly restocked. Besides that, he also got out a half-empty vodka bottle Salieri had forgotten was in there and held it up with an arched eyebrow. When Salieri gave no reaction to that, he just let it sink again and pulled a chair in front of where Salieri sat to take a seat in front of him. Salieri still struggled with pulling off his clothing, but managed to take it off on his own after a while, thankful that Mozart hadn't offered any pitiful help.

He just wanted to take the kit off Mozart, but the demon just chidingly hit his hand again and began cleaning Salieri's arm with a damp towel himself.

"You probably shouldn't shower anymore today. Tomorrow would be okay, you can change your bandages then, too," the demon told him. Salieri was irked by the fact that he would have to postpone his shower a bit longer and instead fall back on washing himself with a wet cloth, but he could see where Mozart was coming from. He couldn't really take a shower while blood still actively and strongly oozed from his wound, and he didn't want to get a fresh bandage immediately wet.

"Why are you doing all this?" he asked instead of grumbling, "I mean, why did you help me with the hunt and then came back here with me. You could've just let me go alone and cashed my soul in way earlier than in just ten years. Or you could've at least left me after the hunt was over." Salieri felt too wrung out to freak out over having such a casual talk with a demon, or over being so close to him. Mozart made a humming sound.

"I don't know," he murmured in his concentration, "Why did you make exactly this deal? You could've had the world, been a famous musician, a rich CEO. You could have had the woman of your dreams, everything your heart desires." He still worked on cleaning off all the dirt around his wound without pushing it further in or agitating the raw flesh, but he finally succeeded and grabbed the vodka bottle.

"He is all the family I've left," Salieri's voice came out a bit hoarse, "I couldn't live without him."

Mozart looked up at him, then, with understanding and a hint of respect in his eyes. He then poured some vodka over the wound and caught the droplets underneath with the towel to not make a mess. When Salieri winced at the sudden pain, he let the towel fall and laid his now free hand on Salieri's right cheek, where some scrapes were located. It felt like an apology.

A mockery was what it must've much rather been.

"I don't know what exactly happened between you and your mentor, but you should go back to him," the demon then advised him. "You gave your soul up for him, you should enjoy every last moment you have left with him." At this, his eyes looked slightly glassed over, but Salieri didn't think much more of it. Mozart shook off his reverie quickly and began wrapping the bandage around Salieri's upper arm.

"If you mean anything to him, which I'm sure you do, he will forgive you," Mozart added curtly after a little while, when he just secured the bandage.

Salieri felt the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the blond – but then he blinked and suddenly Mozart was gone. He was alone again.

 

* * *

 

 

The night after the hunt was rough; Salieri's arm was hurting badly and his heart gave off strange little pangs. Despite this, he managed to get a few hours of dreamless but fitful sleep which only made him feel worse afterwards. He tried not to think too much about everything that had happened, but he couldn't help it, reflecting on everything in the lonely night and morning hours. As soon as he got the shower he so direly needed, he packed everything, canceled his booking of the room and left the local authorities and pathologist a message that everything had been taken care of and that they should call him should other strange deaths occur. After, he drove.

Drove towards where his heart yearned to be, yearned to be reconciled. It had been nearly a month since he has had that huge argument with Gluck and Gassmann, since he had run away. It had been nearly a month since they found out that he had made a deal with a demon and thrown words at him that were a mixture of exasperation and fury.

Nearly a month, and yet the few days it took him to drive to Gluck's homestead felt like an unbearable eternity. He arrived in the early morning hours, not doubting that Gluck would already be awake, and rang the bell. A few moments went by before the door got opened by an exhausted-looking Gluck, who at first only stared at him, eyes opened wide. His gaze soon began bearing tears and he stormed forward, pulling Salieri into a warm embrace.

Salieri himself hadn't noticed how much he had missed Gluck, until that moment. He reciprocated the hug, tears running down his face, too.

"Thank god," Gluck whispered hoarsely in a tone that made Salieri's heart ache.

"Thank god you're back and safe."

 

**Author's Note:**

> At this point, I'd like to give many thanks to Celena and Marysia, who have kept me motivated through these last few weeks and who I could talk to about ideas/theories! You are both darlings~
> 
> Come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://hakuryen.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hakuryen)! =)


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